Shepherd
market is a charming small square and piazza developed in 1735-46 by Edward
Shepherd. It comprises a number of small side streets with a variety of
boutique shops, restaurants and impressive Victorian pubs. This tiny little
enclave is tucked away between Piccadilly and Curzon Street, in the exclusive
borough of Mayfair.

Mayfair
itself is named after the infamous fifteen-day fair that took place on
the site that is Shepherd Market today. James II established the fair
in the 1680’s, mainly for the purpose of cattle trading. Over the
years the fair grew in popularity and size, attracting both rich and poor.
Whilst Queen Anne tried to put an end to the fair, her successor George
I was more approving. The gentrification of the area in the eighteenth
century killed the festival off, with the building of many grand houses.
A local architect and developer (Edward Shepherd), was commissioned to
develop the site. It was completed in the mid 18th century, with paved
alleys, a duck pond, and a two-storey market, topped with a theatre. The
theatre was opened in the month of May, and attracted a much higher class
of visitor than the noisy fair beforehand.

During
the 1920's, Shepherd Market was an ultrafashionable address for some of
London's most refined inhabitants, who lived there like characters in
a play by Noel Coward. The writer Michael Arlen rented rooms opposite
The Grapes public house, and used Shepherd Market as the setting for his
best-selling 1924 novel “The Green Hat”. The book also went
on to become a hit Broadway play and a film starring Greta Garbo.

The
village-like area around Shepherd Market still has something of a jaunty
reputation. It was round the corner at 9 Curzon Place that Cass Elliot
(Mama Cass) of The Mamas and Papas died in July 1974, and, four years
later, Keith Moon, drummer with The Who, died of an overdose. In the 1980s
Shepherd Market was where politician and best-selling author Jeffrey Archer
met the prostitute Monica Coghlan, an encounter which he tried to cover
up in a court of law, and which eventually led to his imprisonment.

Next
to Shepherd Market is Half Moon Street, where the fictional Wooster (the
perfect upper-class Mayfair resident and his faithful valet Jeeves) of
P.G. Wodehouse's novels lived, and where in 1763 the real James Boswell
(newly arrived from Edinburgh) took lodgings and wrote his defamatory
diary. Curzon Street is home to Crewe House, originally built by Edward
Shepherd, but now a company headquarters and one of the few eighteenth-century
Mayfair mansions still standing.

Many
locals describe Shepherd Market as ‘The Heart of Mayfair’.
It is a truly unique and fascinating part of London that must be seen.

Shepherd
Market was described by Arthur Bingham Walkley in 1925 as, “one
of the oddest incongruities in London.” This was a year before he
died and happened to be during the area’s absolute prime. For in
the 1920’s, Shepherd Market was considered to be London’s
most fashionable and opulent district by the city’s bourgeois social
elite. How fitting that almost a century later, Walkley’s portrayal
still rings true. Shepherd Market remains a peculiar and curious collection
of charming alleyways, eclectic cuisine, 18th century pubs and discreet
residences. The neighbourhood’s quaintness removes one from the
congestion and urgency of nearby Piccadilly and oftentimes leads one to
forget they are in central London at all.

Whilst
much of the pomp and aristocracy once associated with Shepherd Market
has migrated to central Mayfair, what remains is a refreshing and relaxing
sanctuary for metropolitan escapees. The scattering of diverse restaurants
around Shepherd Market’s main square and in its surrounding streets
truly offers gastronomy to suit palates of any nationality and to accommodate
any budget. So high is the density of eateries and so wide is the range
of cuisine that one could easily pass by one of Mayfair’s greatest
secrets unawares.

Positioned
in arguably the market square’s most prominent location is ‘L’Artise
Muscle.’ This delectable treasure boasts the epitome of classic
French charm and rustic French cooking. Seemingly plucked from a Parisian
lane, the restaurant’s warming, provincial décor compliments
the food, as the native chefs somehow cater for everyone from what must
be one of the city’s smallest kitchens. As the name suggests, they
serve wonderful mussels and very highly recommended indeed comes the ‘tarte
aux oignons carmelizes et fromage de chevre’.

Right
around the corner, on Shepherd Street, is one of the most unusual combinations
of cuisine in London at ‘L’Autre,’ a Polish-Mexican
bistro. Most likely nowhere else in the world can one order seafood enchiladas
to start followed by rabbit stew as their main dish. L’Autre is
very quirkily decorated and poky throughout but such is its attraction.
Cross the street heading west and one quickly comes across excellent Turkish,
Iranian and Lebanese restaurants, mostly boasting irresistible mezze menus
and al fresco dining. Just 20 yards to the east sits ‘Misto,’
a thoroughbred Italian restaurant. Misto is run by an enormously welcoming
gentleman from Naples and offers classic Italian pasta dishes and authentic
(from a pizza oven) pizza and is very good value considering its surroundings.

Back
over to the west and, somewhat dwarfed by a vast and lavish private property,
one finds ‘Le Boudin Blanc,’ one of London’s finest
French eateries. Its unassuming exterior is in keeping with the rest of
Shepherd Market’s laid-back atmosphere but a venture inside will
reveal that this exquisite restaurant oozes class. The interior is modern
and elegant and this is reflected in the menu: whilst traditional French
dishes, such as escargots and steak tartare, are available, Le Boudin
Blanc successfully intermingles ambitious modern dishes, such as monkfish
and chorizo skewers or its signature ‘Boudin Blanc’ (white
pudding sausage), encompassing chicken, ham hock and veal sweetbread.
This establishment is very special indeed and must not be missed.

As
unexpected as the hodgepodge of restaurants in Shepherd Market is the
concentration and variety of shops. Not a single corner of the market
is wasted. Every nook and cranny is filled with a sandwich shop or a barber,
a newsagents or a boutique. There are stationery shops, cobblers and a
pharmacy just a stone’s throw from high-end clothing stores, luggage
makers and even a gun shop, the likes of which one would imagine might
be more at home on New Bond Street. Such a strange amalgamation of amenities
naturally attracts a diverse crowd to the area.

On
weeknights, hundreds upon hundreds of suave employees from the so called,
‘Hedge Fund Alley,’ of Curzon Street pour into the market
to sample the ales for a few hours in one of its 4 upmarket pubs before
they commute out of Mayfair. On weekdays, the streets are sparsely animated
by ‘working-lunchers,’ lost tourists, local businessmen and
the occasional throng of Americans or Japanese participating in a guided
tour. Despite the area’s unpretentious ambiance, its few roads are
casually lined with some of the world’s rarest and most luxurious
vehicles, a stark reminder of the enormous wealth lurking in the residences
above eye-level. Separating several of the restaurants and shops are endearing
and ostensibly nameless little art galleries, the displays of which are
ever changing, and which regularly host open-evenings. The latter fact
draws yet another type of individual to the market, seeking out the free
food and wine laid on by the galleries and spilling into the street, glass-in-hand,
to discuss the latest artist’s handiwork.

At
weekends, Shepherd Market transforms into a different animal. A completely
new and distinct assembly of people arrives: meandering shoppers appear
from Oxford Street and Bond Street and turn circles in the square, wondering
where they have discovered; the pubs experience a shift in clientele to
include residents, local church-goers and the odd parade-attendee who
has tired of protesting and strayed from Piccadilly; the restaurants are
filled with families of all nationalities and foodie couples, who have
sought out their ‘secret’ central London getaway to eat and
drink and to peruse the shop-windows for jewellery and other luxuries;
gone are the suits from nearby offices and replacing them come explorers,
pointed in the direction of the market by the porter in their Park-lane
hotel.

Shepherd
Market genuinely is the eye of the storm that is central London. It somehow
weaves a wonderful, tranquil sense of village community into the fabric
of the heart of the city. As one moves seamlessly from the congestion
and frenzy of city life and into these delightful streets and lanes, it
is easy to understand how this district became the secluded playground
of the 1920’s bourgeoisie and how it has matured into the sophisticated
but serene retreat that it now embodies.